Edward Cullen Stole My Garbage
by AlchemistNemesis
Summary: That cheeky bastard just won't get out of my dumpster. :C
1. Edward's First Strike

I heard a ghastly clicking noise from outside

Author's Note: Also posted on DeviantArt under HisnameisDaveyoufool. I can confirm if need be.

I heard a ghastly clicking noise from outside. Now, normally, I wouldn't hear a clicking noise from outside being that my window is closed, but hot diggity fruit bats, I did. I figured: whoever made that clicking noise has superpowers.

So I went out in the backyard with my battle-axe to see who had the superpowers and if they could train me to defeat the most terrible of foes that I may or may not face in the future.

It turns out Edward Cullen was taking a break from being emo and playing with the non-optical mouse I had recently thrown away, super-clicking it.

"FUCKER!" I shouted, glad I brought my battle-axe.

"Garbage," said Edward.

"YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, AND YOU'D BETTER GET OUT OF IT!"

"Vampires," he began. "Vampires," he began again, "Vampires," he began yet again. "Vam...pires, love garbage. Yes."

"You love BLOOD, you frickin' moron!"

"Garbage garbage garbage. Love yay." Before I could continue, he jumped into my dumpster and pulled out a broken pogo stick and the roadkill I threw away. Then he started singing Oscar the Grouch's "I Love Trash" song. He sounded like Chris Crocker on helium.

"I'M SURE YOU DO," I shouted over his song. "I CAN TELL FROM YOUR GIRLFRIEND."

He dropped the dead bunny and dead springy and leaped for my throat, screaming incoherent curses. I whacked him a good one with my axe, but it broke my axe because he's super-powerful or something.

He almost turned me into a vampire by biting me, but then my cat Roxanne came up to him. She hates everybody, so she threw Edward a mile away. He ran back, and that gave Roxy and I just enough time to arm ourselves and go after him.

Turns out my crowbar and Roxanne's katana were obviously outmatched by the tank that Edward was driving, continuing to sing "I Love Trash," only a little more druggy this time. Turns out the guy can snort crack at a speed 40 times higher than a normal human. Turns out we were screwed.

But then my sock puppet, who was in my pocket, came out and took out his grenade launcher, from where, I have no fucking idea, he just had it. He blew up the tank with a few shots, but Edward bounced off his tank much like Tigger and came for me.

But he didn't immediately attack me, not this time.

He said: "NOW, DAVE, I WILL SHOW YOU MY TRUE FORM!"

I said: "This has been fun and all, but I want to go home now."

He said: "FUCK YOU, I WILL SHOW YOU MY TRUE FORM!"

Then he turned into a giant tampon.

For starters, the sock puppet cast haste on Roxanne and I, then himself for better healing. Roxanne summoned Bahamut and I threw a fuma shuriken. Then we realized we didn't have powers from Final Fantasy 4, so we huddled up in fear.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny velociraptors. Yes, this was Raptor Santa, the gift-giver of Raptor Christmas.

"HO HO HYEEEERGH, MERRY GETTING YOUR FACE RIPPED OFF!" he screeched at the giant super-tampon that was Edward that was destroying the city that was going to have its face ripped off.

"I AM A TAMPON, THIS IS MY TRUE FORM!" said Edward Cullen, still chewing part of the Sears Tower. "BELLA, IF YOU CAN SEE ME ON TV, I LOVE YOU!"

"Fuck you, I'm in love with this Mudkip," said Bella.

"Mudkip!" said the Mudkip.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND WHATNOT!" said the tamponzilla that was Edward, going on an even worse rampage across the city.

He eventually made it to Wrigley Field, and prepared to blow it up with his sparkling (since he was in the sun now and whatnot) lasers.

That's

When

I

Got

MAD.

I turned Super Saiyan 17, so my power level was obviously over 9000 bazillion, and I kamehameha'd Edward into the center of Alpha Centauri.

Moral of the story: nobody messes with my Cubs and my garbage, especially not sparkling vampires.


	2. Edward Returns for More Garbage

So after saving Wrigley Field, getting out of whatever level super saiyan I was because I hate Dragonball Z but sometimes it's

So after saving Wrigley Field, getting out of whatever level super saiyan I was because I hate Dragonball Z but sometimes it's necessary, and going back to my house, I just decided to mind my own business for the time being and go and complain on the complaints forum. That's what it's for, right? Right. So don't tell me it's for fishing or having sex with dictionaries or anything. Why would you have sex with a dictionary anyway? You're a pervert. That's in the "P" section, which you probably find extra titilating.

ANYWAY.

There was a knock on my front door. "Oh shit, it's Edward Cullen again," I thought. I know I blasted him to the center of Alpha Centauri about five minutes ago, but problems have a habit of recurring.

Surely enough, there he was, in non-tampon form, with burn marks all over him. He smelled vaguely like Alpha Centauri, which is not good because I've been there and I can tell you that the exploding nuclear reactions that keep the star going smell like the Men's room in a Panda Express.

"The fuck you doing here?!" I said.

"I wanted to make up with you so that I may steal your garbage," said Edward.

"But if you made up with me, you wouldn't steal my garbage."

Edward realized at this point that he'd been had, and made a mad dash for my backyard over my rooftop.

I chased him with my rocket boots, but it was too late. He was in my dumpster again, swimming like Scrooge McDuck in the money bin.

"Bella really found this attractive?!" I said.

"HELLS YEAH. SHE LOVES IT WHEN I SPOON-FEED HER USED KLEENEX."

"I really didn't need to know that."

"I WIN."

"No you don't," said my sock puppet, coming out with his trusty grenade launcher.

"Wait, sock puppet, it's not worth blowing up my precious dumpster," I said.

"Then what do I do?"

"Wait until he's out of the dumpster. That's logic."

"BUT I WILL NEVER COME OUT OF YOUR DUMPSTER!" said Edward.

"Then you're not stealing my garbage," I said, "you're just in it."

"I'm stealing your garbage as a means of stealing property! This is my new home! That's logic."

The fucker's logic was right for once. So I decided that if I can't blast him, stab him. I'm sure that's some kind of proverb somewhere, isn't it?

So I looked through my infinite collection of sharp pointy objects that I keep 5 miles below my basement.

Kitchen knife? No, too dull.

Katana? No, to mainstream.

Yugi's hair? No, too yellow.

Kim Possible's tits? NOW we're talkin'.

So I grabbed Kim Possible's tits, which she donated to the weaponry industry when she died of hair cancer as stated in her will. Wait, hair cancer? Anyway, Kim Possible's tits are known to be the most sharp weapon known to mankind, so I figured it was the easiest option.

Meanwhile, the sock puppet was still waiting as some other guys from Twilight were doing synchronized garbage swimming with Edward in my dumpster. I approached them, and hit myself for about an hour until I lost enough HP to do my limit break.

"OMNI-HISNAMEISDAVEYOUFOOL-STAB-OF-DEATH and whatnot," I said.

By the time it was over, Everyone in the dumpster had fifty deep stab wounds in them, and this made them angry as all get-out. They grabbed giant frozen fish and proceeded to chase me.

Then Raptor Santa comes back with his sleigh. "I DIDN'T TECHNICALLY DO ANYTHING IN THE LAST CHAPTER," he shrieked, "SO HERE'S MY OTHER 15 MINUTES OF FAME!" then he shredded the Twilight characters to a strange red smoothie-ish strata, which fused together as one and ate the house next door in one bite.

"The fuck?" I said, it was quite a justified statement, I must say.

The red thing became huge, and then it molded itself into a dragon the size of said house. Then it grew skin and its fingers turned into Pat Buchanan clones. "WE CAN'T IGNORE OBAMA'S MIDDLE NAME, WE JUST CAN'T!" screamed its fingers.

"There is only one solution for this," said my cat Roxanne.

"And what is that?" said my sock puppet.

"Holy shit, my cat talks," I said.

"The flamingo shimmy," said Roxanne.

FLAMINGO SHIMMY

FLAMINGO SHIMMY

FLAMINGO SHIMMY

FLAMINGO MINGO MINGO

SHIMMY SHIMMY MINGO

FLAMIIIIINGO

And with that, the dragon was wiped out of existence, and I gained a hundred bazillion experience points, which makes me able to do such things as pee in public and not get arrested. YAY!


	3. Death of the Dumpster

So it appeared that the sock puppet, Roxanne, and I had finally destroyed Edward Cullen for good via the Flamingo Shimmy, and I

So it appeared that the sock puppet, Roxanne, and I had finally destroyed Edward Cullen for good via the Flamingo Shimmy, and I was going to return to hanging out on the Intarwebz.

Ha, ha, fucking _no._

Edward reappeared as I opened the door to my room. Although the Flamingo Shimmy sent him to the realm of infinitesimal torture, he managed to escape back into my dimension after 1,000,000 years of steadily increasing pain, roughly three seconds in Earth time. It doesn't make sense to me at all, but I'm not the one that thought up this whole realm of infinitesimal torture shindig, it was some sick and perverted guy in Malaysia with way too much time on his hands and more money than I can shake a stick at.

ANYWAY… Edward pointed a shaking finger at me, babbling incoherent words at me that sounded like vulgarities, but they really didn't mean anything. Something about the consonants makes it that way. At any rate, Edward was some kind of potty mouth.

"Why aren't you dead?!" I said.

"I WISH I WAS," yelled Edward, clawing his right eye out in his rage. "YOU'VE TORTURED ME FOR 1,000 MILLENIA, AND FOR THIS YOU WILL PAY!"

"I'M ABRAHAM LINCOLN!" said Abraham Lincoln.

"Yeah, well—" I began.

But then I realized something terrible.

Abraham Lincoln doesn't even belong in this story.

"You're not Abraham Lincoln," said Roxanne.

"An avid observation," said Abe, unzipping the zipper on his neck revealing himself to be Bella in disguise.

"Why the fuck were you in disguise?" said Edward.

"Because I still love you but I don't want to be awkward around you."

"I thought you loved the Mudkip!"

"I don't, the Mudkip could never supply half the mud or kip that you could, Edward…"

"Oh, Bella…"

Then Edward and Bella started making out. On MY BED. Christ on a Cracker, if you're going to get a room, make it YOUR room and not MINE. Fuckin' A, not only did I have to burn my bed after that, I had to send the ashes to Madagascar and have someone bury them 50 feet underground.

"Y'know," I said, "this is all very touching and whatnot, but we seem to be ignoring the fact that EDWARD IS GOING TO TRY TO STEAL MY FUCKING GARBAGE AGAIN."

Edward broke the kiss and made off for my backyard. "Oh, gosh golly gee, I almost forgot about that! I'm breaking up with you, Bella! Ta-ta!"

Roxanne, Socky, and I chased off after Edward into the backyard while Bella took all the liquor in the house and drunk-dialed the Mudkip. The conversation went something like:

"_HeEeEy KiPpY… wAnNa ScReW??"_

"_Mud? Kipmudkip!"_

"_DoN't GeT mAd… HoW aBoUt A nIgHt CaSuAl??"  
_

"_MUUUUD! KIP!" _

_-click-_

So anyways, Edward got in my garbage and started singing "I Love Trash" again.

"I can't take this anymore, Dave," said Socky, grabbing his grenade launcher. "Edward's gotta die!"

"NO! SOCKY! You'll destroy the garbage!"

"This is a necessary sacrifice. One dumpster dies, but a thousand other dumpsters will live as a result!"

Socky fired the grenade launcher, and the dumpster exploded.

"_NOOOOOO!!"_

_ Dave's Dumpster _

_ 1989-2008 _

_ How can the light that burned so brightly suddenly burn so pale… _

And the worst part is, it didn't even kill Edward. He just got stronger from the fire and turned into a fifty-story tall vampire, uh, tree. Its roots acted as feet and it went over to the other trees in my neighborhood and sucked their blood. And yes, trees have blood, don't fucking contradict me.

"My dumpster," I said, unsheathing Kim Possible's tits once again, "will NOT DIE IN VAIN!"

With that, I used the limit-break technique from the previous chapter on the tree, therefore chopping it into a large pile of planks.

Then I hired some minimum-wage workers to turn these planks into Dave's Signature Vampire Furniture™. I sold this furniture and made enough money to buy a new dumpster. I took some seeds and planted an orchard of these vampire trees in South Carolina.

And this all happened in the same day because _I'M FUCKING AMAZING._

Little did I know the terror that would come of it, which will be revealed in the next chapter because I'm a pussy that won't give you the facts straight-up…


	4. The Army of Edwards

So I was sitting in my room, which was now the 100th floor of a fancy office building because of all the money I made off vampi

So I was sitting in my room, which was now the 100th floor of a fancy office building because of all the money I made off vampire-tree-wood furniture, when Roxanne came in.

"Yo, Dave," she said, "there's a problem with this business."

"There are no problems," I said, taking a long drag from the lollipop I lit the end of to make it look like I was smoking a fancy cigar, when really it looked more like a cigarette, who cares. "I built this vampire-tree-wood furniture franchise in less than a day, and Edward is gone — meaning he can't steal anything from my new Sharper Image solid platinum alloy dumpster with trash-vaporizing action."

"You're so fucking ignorant," said Roxanne, peeing on some important document in frustration. "You see, the workers can't control all the vampire trees you're producing. They're ALL Edward Cullen, and they're turning back into Edward's regular vampire form at will."

The sock puppet dashed out from under his pile of expensive prostitutes in the next room in shock. "You mean… there's an ARMY of Edwards?!"

"Oh my God," I said repeatedly, walking around in a circle, realizing that the death of my old dumpster could possibly go unpunished.

"The death of your old dumpster won't go unpunished," said Roxanne, peeing on a picture of Edward to comfort me. "And I know that's exactly what you were thinking because I'm awesome and you're not."

"Thanks, Roxy, but how are we going to get rid of all the Edward clones? You and your hatred, Socky and his grenade launcher, and Kim Possible's razor knockers and I can't do the job alone."

"We'd better think fast," said Socky, gazing down and out the window in horror, "'cause there's about 500 Edward Cullens lined up at the door of our offices!"

I rushed to the window and gazed at the terrible sea of emo vampires that took up the entire street below, moaning an off-key zombie chorus of "I Love Trash."

"Where did you hide the new dumpster?" I asked Roxanne.

"On the roof," she said, peeing on a picture of an exclamation point for emphasis. "We're not losing our trash again!"

"Why do you keep peeing on everything?"

"It's something to do, I guess."

There was a knock on the office door, and I slowly opened it, anticipating Edward. Fortunately, it was Joe the garbage man.

"Hey, uh, I'm supposed to pick up the garbage for today, but I can't find the dumpster."

I looked at Roxanne. Roxanne looked at me. I looked at Socky. Socky looked at Bella. Bella looked at the Mudkip. The Mudkip looked at porn. Socky looked at Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln looked at Bella. Roxanne looked at Abraham Lincoln. The Mudkip continued to look at porn. Bella looked at Joe the garbage man. I looked at Joe the garbage man.

"NICE FUCKING TRY, GARBAGE THIEF!" I shouted, and I threw Joe the garbage man out the plate glass window and onto the street of Edwards below, who didn't really feast on his blood as much as the trash residue on his coat.

Everyone stared at me in shock, except the Mudkip, who was busy with his porn.

"Dave…" said Socky. "How could you?"

"HE WAS TRYING TO STEAL MY GARBAGE! HE'S NO BETTER THAN EDWARD AND ALL HIS CLONES!"

"Dave, listen," said Roxanne, peeing on a psychology textbook for thematic emphasis, "this protection of the garbage has taken over your mind. Now you're on Edward's level."

"This is not how the old dumpster would have wanted it to be," said Socky.

"I'm Abraham Lincoln," said Abraham Lincoln.

"YOU'RE ALL CRAZY!" I said, grabbing Kim Possible's tits and getting in some freaky-deaky battle position.

Before anyone had time to react, all 500 of the Edwards had turned into 500 giant tampons flying high above the city in giant F-22 raptors.

"GARBAGE!!" they collectively shouted.

Could this be the end of all trashkind?


	5. The Tampon Edwards Nuke Everything

The sad thing was that there was no real way to kick the collective ass of all those giant fighter-jet-piloting tampons that Ed

The sad thing was that there was no real way to kick the collective ass of all those giant fighter-jet-piloting tampons that Edward Cullen had become, especially because I could tell that they had nuclear missiles.

The gang and I took the new dumpster to the office building's secret underground bunker and hid under it for a month. We had to eat Bella to survive, and you know what? She didn't taste like chicken at all. She tasted like…I dunno, you know the way shit smells when you combine it with paint thinner? Yeah, like that, only in taste form. Not what I'd call a delicacy.

We came up to a very dark nuclear winter and the unrecognizable radioactive rubble that the once-proud city of Chicago had become, along with the rest of the cities in the world. I probably was taking in a lot of radiation along with the rest of us, but my incredibly sexy hair beat the crap out of the radiation sickness.

"It's all gone…" I said. "All the trash, all the dumpsters in the world are gone…"

"TRASH?!" said Roxanne, peeing on a human skull in disgust. "What about your family and friends, and the fact that you and Abraham Lincoln are the last normal members of the human race?!"

"I'm Abraham Lincoln," said Abe.

"The trash…" I said, radioactive tears streaming down my face like glowing waterfalls. "Edward bombed all the trash into oblivion…"

"Wait a sec," said Socky. "If everything in the World has been bombed to rubble…then wouldn't that make EVERYTHING trash?"

"Yeah," I said, "but if everything's trash, then what's the trash of the trash?"

We paused for about five minutes in deep thought.

"We are," said the Mudkip.

"Huh?" I said.

"You're supposed to only say 'mud,' 'kip,' and variations thereof," said Socky.

"Forget that, but there's a saying,_ 'in the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.'_"

"Who said that?" said Roxanne.

"Probably Chuck Norris," said the Mudkip.

I got on a pedestal made from a melted Ford F-150 and stood in the last glint of sunlight. "He's right! This trash we have been defending was inside of us all along! We are different, and trash is different, so _we are the supreme entity that is GARBAGE!_"

"Question," said Roxanne.

"Make it quick, this is my dramatic moment."

"Can I be queen of the world, seeing as that everyone else is dead?"

"Whatever floats your boat, Roxy."

"Sweeeeeet."

We heard the roars of giant F-22 raptors in the distance.

"What do we do now?" I asked the Mudkip.

"It's simple. We look at porn and say 'mud,' 'kip,' and variations thereof!"

"Whaaa?"

"I'm only here for ideological advice, I'm not a plankip."

"I don't think we'll have to kill _all_ the Edwards to put this broken planet to rest and rule the world as the trash lords," said Socky. "We have to find the source Edward, and kill him."

"And there's only _one_ guy that can find the source Edward and can survive a nuclear holocaust," said Roxanne, peeing her name in the radioactive snow in Gregorian calligraphy for emphasis. "Raptor Santa."

So we went to the area five miles in the direction of Alaska from the North Pole, which from what I understand is where Raptor Santa lives. Now, Chicago IS a long way from the North Pole region. So I'll just cut the jibber-jabber and say it went a lot like this:

walkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkOH MY GOD IT'S A BEARwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkOH MY GOD ANOTHER FUCKING BEAR, RUNwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwe're here.

We stood before the gates of Raptor Santa's Workshop, and hit the doorbell once.

How we would be greeted, whether we would all be eaten by elveciraptors or not, was completely unknown to us…


End file.
